


Family Unit

by psychicdreamsandangelwings



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, It'll be the end of me, M/M, Rickyl, much fluff, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2014-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-22 07:04:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2498954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychicdreamsandangelwings/pseuds/psychicdreamsandangelwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl is basically the Grimes kids' second Dad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Unit

**Author's Note:**

> I swear to God this ship is going to end me, my obsession has gotten out of hand. My muse hijacked my brain and is preventing anything from being written that’s not rickyl. Anyways, enjoy.
> 
> Set while the gang was still at the prison, not sure what season it would fall into.

It's hard to pinpoint exactly how it began, but it's clear to anyone who pays attention that Daryl holds a special position in the Grimes family. Daryl stepped up the moment Judith was born, making sure she had everything she could possibly need. The group was dead set on making sure that she survived, but Daryl seemed to go above and beyond what was expected of them. Judith had Daryl wrapped around her little finger when she was just hours old, and Daryl didn't seem to care.

When he wasn't busy doing other things he'd offer to take Judith for a few hours so that Rick, or whoever was watching her at the time, could have a break. He’d gingerly pick her up, instantly making her smile as she caught sight of his familiar face. Judith adored Daryl, and he definitely felt the same. He’d smile, the kind of smile that was rarely ever seen on his face, and coo at her, referring to her as ‘Lil Asskicker like it was the highest praise a baby could receive. The group would tease him about his sudden attitude adjustment if they were positive it wouldn't cause him to back up into his shell.

The group watched on with half-hidden smiles as Daryl Dixon changed before their eyes. The man with a protective wall a mile long surrounding him like a cocoon; the man who'd been through hell and back again, both before and after the Apocalypse, without so much as breaking a sweat; the man who faced off with walkers and humans alike like they were nothing but pesky ants under his boot; the man who hunted for and protected his group like they were his family; became a big ol' softy the second Judith was put into his arms. Daryl, who was once a hot headed punk who didn't care about anyone but himself and his brother, had morphed into an important aspect of their group, someone they’d go to the ends of Earth to protect.

It's said that tragic events that uproot everything you know change a person, good or bad. You would think living in a world where the motto is essentially kill or be killed would bring out the monster inside us all. After all, the world consists of unlimited gore and violence and a person can't experience something like that and come out completely unscathed. But it seems to have brought out the best in Daryl, giving him the opportunity to find a place in life he never would have found before the world went to shit. He found a group that he could count on, a family he would go to the ends of the earth to protect, which was something he had never had before.

Maggie ponders all of this as she periodically glances up at Daryl on the other side of the room. Daryl's sitting at a table, Judith sleeping peacefully against his shoulder. There's a group of people going out on a run later today and Daryl's making a list of supplies for them to look for. She must have just fallen asleep because a few minutes ago Daryl had been talking softly to her. Judith twitches in her sleep, crying out softly, and Daryl shushes her as he gently rests a hand on her back. Maggie had to admit, it was overwhelmingly adorable. The effect Daryl had on Judith, even when considering his “tough guy exterior,” is more than obvious to anyone even half paying attention.

Daryl gets Judith calmed down, maneuvering her so she's cradled in the crook of his arm. A few minutes after Judith is settled, Rick steps through the door. He grins the second he catches sight of Daryl and Judith. Maggie watches from the corner of her eye as Rick walks over, placing a hand on Daryl’s shoulder as he bends down to press a kiss against Judith’s forehead. He whispers something in Daryl’s ear causing him to break out in a grin and Maggie hides her smile with her hand. The three of them are so damn adorable.  
Rick sits down next to Daryl and the two of them talk lowly to each other for another ten minutes, sides discreetly pressed against each other. Soon enough Judith's awake again, eyes roaming around as she tries to pick up on anything interesting enough to look at. She giggles, that adorable laugh that tears at your heart strings and gives off an entirely new faith in humanity, when she catches sight of Rick.

“Hey baby girl,” Rick says. He lets her wrap a meaty fist around his finger while he looks over the list Daryl's making.

After another few minutes the two of them stand up, Daryl holding Judith on his hip. The look oddly suits him. To some it may look a little weird, an extremely masculine guy with a crossbow strung over his back cradling something so precious and innocent, but there was no doubt denying he sure did love that little girl.

“Hey, Maggie,” Daryl calls out and Maggie looks up. “Ya mind finishin' this up for me? Rick and I are gonna go over the supplies in the other room. ”  
Maggie nods and stands up, heading towards Daryl's makeshift workspace. “Sure Daryl, I've got you covered.”

“Thanks,” he says, before the three of them head out the door. Maggie ducks her head as a smile splits across her face. She sits down and begins to sort through their remaining supplies, thoughts of the happy family fading as she gets to work.

* * *

Later that same day, Carol goes looking for Daryl. The groups calling a meeting and they need Daryl's input. She finds him in a secluded section of the prison yard with Carl. Carol smiles at the two of them and leans up against the wall as she watches them interact. It'd be clear to anyone watching that the two of them share a special kind of bond, no matter what that bond may be. Daryl's standing behind Carl, adjusting his grip on the crossbow in his hands. Carol can't hear what he's actually saying from this far away, but she's sure Daryl's giving Carl some pointers as he attempts to teach him to shoot. Daryl doesn't trust anyone with his crossbow, hardly lets the thing leave his hands, so the fact that he's letting carl use it proves what she's been thinking. 

A makeshift target is set up a few feet away from them, complete with crudely drawn circles to help judge accuracy. There's an arrow already stuck in one of the outer rings and even more litter the ground around them. Carl doesn't seem to be very good at shooting but Daryl doesn't seem to mind it. She can that what matters most to him is the time they spend together, not the accuracy behind Carl's shooting.

Daryl says a few more words, pointing at the target with one of his fingers, before he steps back and gives Carl more room to shoot. There's a soft whooshing sound as an arrow flies from the bow, this one almost hitting dead center. Daryl jumps up in the air, letting out a whoop of praise, and Carol can't help the grin that spreads across her face. Watching Daryl get excited over Carl's progress with a crossbow is possibly the most fulfilling thing she's seen in weeks.

“‘Atta boy,” Daryl says loud enough for Carol to hear, clamping down on his shoulder. He looks so proud at that moment, like he's just taught Carl the most valuable lesson he'll even learn, and Carol can't help but grin. Right now, Daryl's acting like a proud father whose son just perfected a sacred technique.

Daryl looks up and sees Carol standing over by the wall and she beckons him over with a twitch of her head. He says something to before he heads towards her. “Hey.”

“Hey yerself,” Daryl says, leaning back against the wall beside her.

“He’s getting good at that,” she says, turning her head to look at him.

“Yeah, he is,” Daryl says, small smirk on his face. “He’s practically a natural.”

“Admit it, you totally just had a ‘proud father’ moment,” Carol teases.

Daryl’s face turns red and he jumps slightly, becoming closed off at the “father” insinuation. The word had never sat right with him, and given his past, one couldn’t really blame him. “I don’ know what ya mean,” he says, feigning innocence. Carol can tell he knows exactly what she means.

Carol rolls her eyes and looks over at Carl, who’s still attempting to shoot a perfect bullseye. “You can deny it all you want, Daryl, but we all see how close you are with Rick’s kids. You spend a lot of time with them, face it, you’re like a second father.”

“‘S whatever,” Daryl says with an awkward shrug, watching as Carl gets his crossbow in position to shoot again. "At least his technique is down pat, shoulda seen him earlier. He’s improved a lot."

Carol shrugs, realizing Daryl’s going to keep changing the subject. He’s not ready to confront his position in their life and Carol can respect that. “Anyways, I came out here to let you know we’re putting together a run. I figured you’d probably want to go. If not-”

Carol was interrupted by a cheer and an unconscious air pump from Daryl as Carl hits the target dead center. Carl beams and looks back at Daryl, grinning so hard you could see all of his teeth. Daryl gives the kid a thumbs up and claps his hands. He quickly tries to cover his reaction and Carol pretends she hadn’t noticed, not wanting to embarrass Daryl.

“If not they still need the list you came up with earlier,” Carol finished.

“Alright,” Daryl says, stepping away from the wall. “I’ll go talk to them. Hey kid,” he calls, waiting for Carl to around. “I've gotta go, we’ll pick this lesson up later, ya?”

Carl nods and hands Daryl his bow back before running off. Carol watches the interaction with a barely subdued smile. “‘S whatever my ass,” she mutters under her breath before following after Daryl. Daryl’s attached to the kid, and no matter what he says, everyone can see it.

* * *

A few days after Daryl and Carl’s crossbow lesson Daryl sneaks into Rick’s cell. The run had taken longer than they thought it would. Some of the things on the list were hard to find and they’d gotten boxed in by a large herd. It’d been a close call but they hadn’t lost anyone and they’d found all the supplies on the list. Daryl was exhausted, sore, and just ready to relax.

Usually after a long run he’d go straight to his perch and pass out but lately he’d been sneaking into Rick’s cell more and more often at night. Rick’s always had a soothing affect on him and right now all he wants is to crawl into bed with him. Rick would be pissed if he woke up the next morning to realize Daryl had gotten in and not told him. He always worried whenever Daryl strayed too far from the prison, which was annoying but sweet in a way that Daryl would never admit he enjoyed.

Daryl steps inside the cell and shucks off his jeans before he sets his crossbow aside. He carefully slides in beside Rick, trying not to wake the man. The bed’s tiny and squeaks as he settles down but Daryl doesn’t have to worry about waking him, Rick’s already awake.

“Hey,” Daryl says as he settles on his side, hand curling around Rick’s hip.

“Hey you,” Rick replies, leaning forward to press a kiss against Daryl’s lips. He’s taking this relationship slow, not wanting to pressure Daryl into anything he might not be ready for, which makes Daryl grateful. He knows he’s not good with the “touchy feely, lovey dovey” factor of their relationship, but he’s starting to get used to the idea that somebody could just generally care about him like Rick does.

Rick’s eyes roam over him, trying to pick out any injuries in the nearly pitch black cell as his eyes scan over every inch of visible skin. Unable to see much in the dark, he runs his hands over Daryl's body, feeling for any wounds he doesn’t already know about. He frowns when his hands brush over Daryl's bandaged wrist. Rick takes the appendage in his hands, running soft fingers over it, careful not to cause him any pain. “What happened?”

“‘S nothing,” Daryl assures him, rubbing his finger over the sharp jut of Rick’s hip bone. “Banged up my wrist is all, Maggie made me put somethin’ on it as a precaution. She'll probably make me let Hershel check it over in the morning even though I know it's not broken. I’m good.”

Rick brings the wrist to his lips, chapped skin kissing the brown bandage softly. Daryl sighs, not able to resist the urge to press closer to him. Now that they’re alone, Carol’s words replay over and over again in his head and he knows he won’t be able to stop thinking about them anytime soon.

“Something wrong?” Rick asks, watching as Daryl’s eyebrows knit into an expression he knew well. It was the “I-think-I’m-doing-something-wrong-but-I’m-not-sure-how-to-bring-it-up-without-driving-you-away” face that Daryl seems to wear a lot.

“Jus’ been thinkin’ lately,” Daryl says, averting his eyes.

“‘Bout?” Rick asks, not letting Daryl shy away from him.

“Do you think I spend too much time with your kids?” Daryl asks in one breath, words slurring together in a way that makes it almost impossible for Rick to understand what Daryl’s trying to say.

“What do you mean?” Rick asks, knitting his eyebrows together. He doesn’t understand how Daryl could possibly think he’s spending too much time with Judith and Carl.

“I don’ know, just been thinkin’,” Daryl says again, and Rick can tell he’s doing nothing but avoiding the question.“It’s jus’ I spend a lot of time with them, and I don’ want ya to think that I’m trying to be you or replace Lori ‘cause ‘m not. It just kind of... happens.”

“No. I don’t think you spend too much time with my kids. Shit Daryl, Beth spends more time taking care of Judith these days than I do. The fact that children are able to thrive in a world as fucked up as the one we live in today is a miracle, and a lot of people have a connection with Carl and Judith because of that. It makes me happy to know you’re willing to spend time with them,” Rick says honestly.

“We’re together,” Rick joins their hands together to solidify his point, “and it makes me happy to think that you like spending time with them. I know this idea scares you, but I really would like us to be a family, at least eventually. And I don’t mean a family like we are with the entire group, because they’re my family and I’d do anything for them. I mean like a family before the apocalypse hit, a family made up of parents and their kids.”

That’s an idea that’s almost foreign to him. His biological family was dysfunctional at best. His mother died, his father beat the shit out of him every chance he got, and his brother was much older than him and in and out of jail so much he hardly saw him. Daryl always told himself he’d never be a father, especially because he figured he'd never find anyone who’d want to start a family someday.

He hadn't exactly had a lot of partners before the world ended, Merle’s friends even referred to him as Daryl ‘no game’ Dixon. No one wanted anything to do with the street rat with the troubled past. He was considered too much of a stiff by most people to even be considered a suitable partner, and the few who tried to get to know him took one look at his emotional baggage and hit the road.

Intimacy is something he’s not good at, never has been. He can take down anything that threatened his people, would willingly die for them, he can hunt and shoot and tussle with the best of 'em. The second you get too close to him though he pushes himself away, too afraid of getting hurt to let anyone in.

That changed when he met Rick Grimes. Rick’s okay with his standoffish attitude, he understands when Daryl needs him near and when he needs to be left alone. Daryl was a dick when they first started this new chapter of their relationship, he won’t lie, and he was surprised Rick even tried as hard as he did to push past the barriers he had built around himself. If he was Rick, he would have kicked himself to the curb a long time ago. But Rick tried, tried so hard, and eventually broke Daryl down layer by layer, carving a place in his heart for him that he knew would never go away.

This relationship is foreign to him, half the time he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He feels like failure ninety percent of the time. It seems like they’re taking steps in the right direction and then something happens that makes Daryl shut down so quick it’s almost unnatural. But Rick’s calm and caring, he understands Daryl better than anyone else, and Daryl still doesn’t know how he’d gotten so lucky. The fact that Rick’s fine with bringing him into his family, especially after he lost Lori, and letting him be in his kids’ life speaks wonders to how much he means to him. He’s so patient and understanding, it makes Daryl’s heart quench in a way that it never has before.

Daryl cares about his people, he’d willingly sacrifice himself so that one of them could live, but the connection he has to Rick and his children is different, stronger, more intimate. “I don't know what it means to be a father, seeing as mine wouldn't have won any awards. This whole... family thing is foreign to me."

"I don't expect you to be a father, Daryl. That's my job. But if you want to take on some fatherly roles, become an important part of their lives and influence them in ways that I never could, be my guest. There's no such thing as "spending too much time" with them. I want you to be close with them, they both adore you, Daryl, and that will always be an important part of this relationship," Rick says honestly.

"You really mean that?” Daryl asks, voice so soft Rick has to strain his ears to hear correctly.

‘‘Course I do,” Rick says in a voice that seems to scream, ‘you insolent child, are you blind.’ “Carl idolizes you, Judith loves you, and you happen to be really important to me. You could never spend too much time with my kids.”

Daryl’s worries all but fade, at least for the time being, and he finds himself finally able to relax. “I get you,” Daryl says, tightening his grip on Rick’s hip. Daryl can feel a yawn coming on and he tries to hide it against Rick’s neck.

“You’re exhausted,” Rick says, smoothing the bags under Daryl’s eyes with the pad of his thumb. “You need to sleep, no more worrying now. Even the famous Daryl Dixon needs some rest.”

Daryl scowls half-heartedly. “‘M not famous.”

"Not according to some of the residents here," Rick teases. “They see you as some kind of idol.”

"If I wasn't so tired I would slug you," Daryl says playfully. "I'm not famous."

“Maybe not,” Rick says. “But you still need your sleep.”

“I hate you so much sometimes, Grimes,” Daryl mutters, smiling despite his efforts to hide it.

“I know you do Dixon,” Rick says, curling an arm around Daryl’s waist. It’s not long before the archer is fast asleep, absolutely wiped out from his latest run. Rick watches him sleep for a while, tempted to stroke over his sculpted features but afraid to wake him up. Rick would never say this to Daryl because he knows he’d deny it in a second but he looks like an angel when he sleeps, all his worries washing away.

The fact that Daryl’s afraid he’s getting too close to his kids seems rather ridiculous, after all he basically acts like their second father half the time. Rick watches Daryl sleep, mind wandering every which way, until his own eyes grow tired and he falls into a peaceful sleep as well.


End file.
